


Of Princes and the Pure Of Heart

by MagpieMorality



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Adult!Woodsman!Virgil, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst, Character Death, Dog Without A Name, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Character Death, Kid!Prince!Roman, M/M, More tags to come with Part Two, Near Death Experience, off-screen violence, selective mutism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:27:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22577779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagpieMorality/pseuds/MagpieMorality
Summary: Sometimes family is a loner in the woods; the young prince he rescues from near death; and a soppy dog.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders & Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders & Logic | Logan Sanders, Hinted at pre Analogical
Comments: 57
Kudos: 120





	1. The Pursuit

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: off-screen violence, death mention, near death experiences, angst, swearing. 
> 
> A Fantasy AU in which young Prince Roman is running for his life, and subsequently found by a man living in the woods who is determined to nurse him back to health and look after the poor kid. Intended to be two parts!

Roman ran through the trees, breath ragged and hot in his throat, making his chest ache as he wheezed and kept going. His legs shook under him but he couldn’t stop he _mustn’t stop he had to get away get away to safety_ \- 

It felt like he’d been running for hours by now, and he wasn’t even sure he was being chased anymore because he couldn’t hear anything over his gasping breaths and the rushing of his heartbeat pumping in his ears. The snow made it hard to move as he got further and further through the forest, but the way it fell hid his tracks so he couldn’t be ungrateful. It cooled his panic-hot body and cushioned his fall when he slipped over time and time again, but it also made him stand out like a sore thumb in his bright regalia, and highlighted the drop of red from his split lip in a way that made him feel ill and dizzy and captivated all at once, like he was looking at a rose bush in full bloom as he fell towards the thorns that awaited. 

Time dragged on, the sounds all faded behind a rising static whine in his head that he was sure wasn’t actually there. And then, just as his legs crumbled for the last time, he saw it; through the trees there was a neatly stacked wood pile. 

Someone had to be living nearby!

With all the energy and air he had left, Roman started to cry out, unable to get up or move beyond a very slow crawl towards the wood. He started to shiver after barely a minute, clothes soaking through and chilling him to the bone, but still he kept up his desperate, piercing call of “ _help_!" 

Closer and closer to the wood pile he got, until he was almost close enough to touch it. His cries had dwindled down to a thin, reedy wail, and the world around him seemed to be growing darker, darker…

And as his vision finally faded to black and his voice gave out with a feeble croak, Roman thought he imagined the sound of a dog barking.  
  
  


* * *

Virgil wasn’t expecting to find a boy out in the snow, half frozen and unresponsive. Virgil wasn’t expecting to find anyoneat _all_ but he _had_ , so now he had to just deal with it. 

"Well pooch, guess we’ve got ourselves a foundling, eh?” He said to the dog sniffing at the boy’s hair, voice gruff from lack of use. There was no time to waste, not with the way the boy’s nose and lips were turning white and starting to tinge with blue, so he hefted him quickly up over his shoulder and made for the house. 

The boy didn’t stir when he got him inside and laid him gently on the bed, and Virgil inwardly steeled himself for the worst. There were some things there was no coming back from, he knew, and the boy looked pretty badly off. But then the dog whined by his side, leaning forwards to snuffle over that pale face, and turned her big brown doe eyes on him as if pleading for him to help. “Fuck it,” he muttered, hurrying to stoke the fire up and silently offering an apology to the poor kid before dispensing with his wet clothes with a few careful cuts from his hunting knife. He grabbed as many blankets as he could to add to the ones on his bed- not that there were many left not already on it, this time of year- and stripped down to his thermals. It wasn’t quite skin to skin but it would do- if the boy was going to live then this ought to be more than enough. 

“On the bed, pooch,” he clicked his fingers, bundling the ice-cold body into the nest with him and curling around the boy as tightly and completely as he could. It didn’t feel like enough, even with the weight and warmth of the dog on the other side to help out, so he sighed again and pulled his shirt over the kid’s head, tucking him close to his chest and rubbing his back gently to try and massage some life back into his bloodstream. 

It was hard not to shiver with the frozen skin against his own, the ends of his snow-wet hair tickling his neck as they melted. At least the boy was breathing, and still limp and alive rather than stiff and dead. There was still hope. 

Hope that took a real boost when only an hour later the boy started to wheeze softly, body easing out into a more restful unconsciousness that signified to a relieved Virgil that, although danger was undeniably still present, the threat of losing the boy to the cold had just lessened enough for him to relax. He dozed off soon after, lulled by the warmth and the oddly comforting weight of the body in his arms, wheezing steadily and softly on over the crackle of the fire.  
  
  


* * *

  
It was growing dark when he woke, alerted by the shifting of the boy in his arms. Virgil looked down to see the boy staring up at him warily from his warm hidey-hole under Virgil’s shirt, eyes still a little foggy but focusing well enough.

The woodsman gave him a small nod and very deliberately didn’t move, letting the boy gather awareness and work out how he was going to react. 

Not at all, it turned out, as the dark eyes blinked once, twice, heavily drooping until he was right back to sleeping. Virgil adjusted his grip a bit and settled in for a long wait, congratulating himself on a job well done.  
  
  


* * *

  
When the boy next came round Virgil was mid-yawn. He felt him stiffen and start to tremble, not terribly surprised by the distress the boy felt on waking up in a stranger’s bed being rather firmly cuddled. It was enough to distress any right-thinking folk, really. 

“Take a few breaths now, kid. You’re safe here, I don’t intend to harm you. There’d be no sense in saving your life just to undo all that hard work now, would there?” Virgil said in what he hoped was a low, comforting voice. “You’re in my house, how you got here is something I’d sore like to know, but you just concentrate on warming yourself up and feeling better now, y'hear me? Rest." 

Apparently it was the right thing to say, because the boy relaxed against him and actually pressed closer in response. He did jump when the dog huffed behind him, but with a quiet word from Virgil explaining what it was he settled again. 

* * *

  
The third time the boy woke up he seemed to be almost right as rain. He yawned and stretched, allowing Virgil to move a bit himself at last. It was mid-morning the day after he’d found him, and there was no sign of the lifelessness from the day before, nor the haze in his eyes. He still didn’t say a word or smile as he stared up at Virgil, but all things considered it was a resounding success. 

The dog barked softly from the main room and they both looked over to see her sat in the doorway looking pitiful. The sight made the boy huff softly through his nose, a sound that was almost amusement. Virgil ruffled his hair carefully. "You gonna be okay here if I go feed her?” He asked, keeping his voice quiet and his tone calm so as not to spook the boy. He got a slow nod in reply and helped the boy untangle himself from his shirt, showing him a pile of clothes on the chair he could choose from to wear if he needed to- long sleeve shirts and sweaters and some thermal leggings and socks. He diverted that way himself to pull on an extra layer before braving the cold of the rest of the house.

The dog pranced around him as the food was being sorted, wolfing it down as soon as the bowl hit the floor. Virgil felt a tiny bit guilty because he hadn’t been able to feed her the night before, so he tossed her a bone as a treat to gnaw on while he went to sort out the fire. It was good to move around again, and his hand brushed the wood of the fireplace in apology for letting the cold seep into the bones of the house overnight. It would take a little while to heat everything up again, and it didn’t do anything any good to be changing temperature too much. 

A creak from the direction of the bedroom had Virgil looking up in surprise. The boy stood there, braced heavily on the door frame, wrapped in a satisfactory amount of layers and trying to stay up on unsteady feet. Virgil clicked his tongue, holding back the scolding he wanted to give the boy for pushing himself too far too soon in favour of just getting up and helping him back to the bed, pushing him down with a firm hand. “Just you stay there now, kid. There’s no sense making yourself worse now you’re starting to feel better. No way you get through this without getting ill somehow, so we’re gonna try and make it as easy on you as we can, alright?" 

The boy nodded, casting his eyes down. Virgil thought at first it was shame but the stubborn pout of his lips marked it as petulance instead, and he chuckled at the sight. "Yeah, yeah, I know. Big mean old Virgil, making you stay still and bored, right? You’ll thank me later, kid, trust me.” The woodsman stood up, stretching his back. His stomach rumbled abruptly, and he glanced at the boy at the reminder that yeah, food was a thing. “You eat soup? What am I saying, ‘course you eat soup. We’ll have some of what I’ve got leftover in the pot, should warm you up a bit more. Get some nourishment back in you to fight the chills." 

Virgil took stock of the situation as he stood by the stove and waited for the soup to heat up. The boy had been very well dressed, and was in great health- near freezing to death aside. He wasn’t saying a damn word, which kinda sucked because Virgil hadn’t spoken this much in years, mostly by choice, and his throat was already beginning to hurt. Still, it did feel good to have someone in the house and Virgil was reminded how much he not-so-secretly enjoyed caring for others. Usually the dog was enough, but with the boy he suddenly felt warm and fuzzy in a much bigger way. 

The boy, he was pleased to note, was sat up but bundled under the covers when he got back to the bedroom, and the dog was lying on the bed beside him enjoying some tentative pets. Both of them perked up when Virgil appeared with the food, and he snorted as he clicked the dog back onto the floor so he could sit with the boy and eat. There was a bowl of soup with some chunks of hearty bread, a few good bits of cheese and a cup of hot apple juice that he placed carefully on the table beside the bed. 

It was interesting to see that the boy- rightfully and smartly- watched Virgil until he’d taken his first spoonful, before testing the flavour carefully and then digging in ravenously, finishing half the soup and bread in a truly stunningly short time while Virgil plodded along and kept a careful eye on him. He slowed down but kept nibbling, and finished every crumb and drop he’d been given before taking hold of the hot juice, cupping the mug in his hands close to his chest and breathing in the hot steam. 

Quiet fell in the house, interrupted only by the occasional soft pops and crackles of the fire, and the sounds of three different sets of breathing. Virgil was loathe to push the boy into giving answers, and wasn’t entirely sure he wanted or needed them yet either, so he just silently took the bowls and went to wash up. The boy was dozing again when he returned to the bedroom, curled half sat up against the pillows, and the damn dog was back up on the bed sprawled out against his front, but Virgil didn’t have the heart to disturb them. 

He went to collect bring more firewood in from the side of the house instead, and made himself comfortable on the couch for a bit, doing some woodcarving while he had the time. 

The peace was shattered by the sound of movement outside, and Virgil crossed to look out the window. There were figures flitting through the trees, getting gradually closer. He heard the boy gasp in the bedroom and hurried in to him, catching him by the shoulders. "Tell me quickly, yes or no. Were you being followed?” The boy nodded quickly. Shit. “Do you want to go with them?” The boy shook his head emphatically. Double shit. Virgil raked a hand through his hair. “Okay last question. Do they want to hurt you?” The boy hesitated, eyes shining, and then he nodded one last time. Upgrade that shit to a full on _fuck_. 

Flying into action, Virgil pressed a finger to his lips and waved for the boy to hide, and was pleased to see him quickly slip off the bed and underneath it out of sight as he himself hurried out into the main room to the window to keep an eye on the goings on outside. The noise outside resolved itself into shouts and the jangling of horse tack, and several men wearing black cloaks and scowls appeared from the trees and came toward the house. 

Virgil cast a glance around and whistled for the dog, pleased to note it wasn’t possible to see there had been a second human inside recently. The two of them- no doubt three with the boy under the bed- flinched when there was a knock at the door, and a too-pleasant voice floated through. 

“Hello? I’m with the Royal Guard, we’re looking for a… missing person. Can you open the door?” They called. Virgil steeled himself with a breath and grabbed the dog by the scruff, inwardly proud of how she growled as he opened the door to face the intruder. 

“What do you want all the way out here?” Virgil asked before the man could say anything else. “Don’t even know about no royals. I keep an eye on my business and the world keeps away. S'how we like it." 

The man’s expression was already starting to pinch. Good, Virgil thought. _Go away_. "Sorry to interrupt, unfortunately there’s been a disaster. The family were on holiday nearby and were attacked, we believe on the road before they arrived. We’re looking for their son, the Prince Roman. Have you seen-”

“Haven’t seen hair nor hide of nobody in weeks. It’s winter- people don’t pass this way, 'less you count the wolves." 

"Right, well.” The guard cleared his throat and attempted to keep his smile fixed. “There’s a reward, see, because we-”

“Reward?” Virgil made a show of squinting at him in interest. “A reward you say?" 

"Yes and-”

“Damn, I’ll start lookin’ round a bit more in that case then, eh. Make a quick bit'a cash. Say, you need him alive?” The guard gave him a look of distaste, but he carried on. “Only, anyone running around out here in weather like this is only gonna last so long. Wanna know if it’s worth bringing you a body or not, see." 

They stared at each other, and the guard finally gave up. "Yes, sure. Bring the body- we do need to know he’s been found. Well, thank you anyway. We shall keep on with our search." 

Virgil nodded. "Best hurry back down the pass though, snowfall’s coming in soon. You’ll get trapped up here with nought but old me if you’re not careful,” he warned, satisfied to see the guard glance nervously at the sky.

“Very well. Good day,” he grimaced, hurrying back to his horse. Virgil watched them go, eyes narrowing as he counted them. He heard a movement in the bedroom but didn’t turn to look until they’d disappeared into the trees. He frowned and counted again, closing the door, and as he passed the bedroom he made sure to give a tiny shake of his head and click for the dog to stay by the door, hoping that would be enough. 

For a solid five minutes Virgil puttered around, not doing much and definitely not talking to the boy, before at last there was a whisper of sound and another figure sped away from the house and off into the woods to follow their companions. “Sly bastards. You can come out now, get back into bed alright?” He called, setting the kettle on. He brought another mug of hot juice for the boy and sat on the bed while he sipped at it, big wary eyes watching him carefully.  
They sat in silence for a while, just looking at each other, before Virgil had to speak. “So you’re the Prince, huh?" 

"A." 

”… What?“ Virgil was doubly confused- firstly because the boy had just spoken, and secondly because what he’d said didn’t make much sense. ”'A’? A what?“

“ _A_ prince. Not _the_ Prince,” came the whisper, and _oh_ , yeah that would make sense. Virgil sucked in air through his teeth and leaned back. 

“I see. But you are Prince Roman then, yeah?” The boy nodded. Guess that _fuck_ was still firmly in effect then.  
  
  


* * *

Roman was still not entirely sure how much he could trust this strange, gruff man. He looked nice enough, and he’d both saved and protected Roman in the last twenty-four hours, but since he knew Roman was a prince he’d been acting weird. 

Roman was pretty sure the man was called Virgil, but there was some kind of comfort in not speaking, so he hadn’t managed to confirm that yet and was just resigned to sticking to thinking of him that way until given alternative proof. As if summoned Virgil poked his head into the bedroom again to check on him, and Roman scowled at him from where he was curled up, stroking the dog absently. Virgil disappeared again quickly, and Roman sighed. This wouldn’t do- who knew how long he’d have to stay here until he could get somewhere safer? 

With a squaring of his shoulders Roman made his decision, and scrambled clumsily out of the bed and over to the door. He took a moment there to catch his breath, still weak from the fatigue and- damn the man for being right- impending sickness. Virgil noticed him almost immediately but Roman lifted a hand before the woodsman could scold him for being up. He struggled over to the couch Virgil was sat on and flopped down with an exhausted but satisfied huff, closing his eyes for a moment. 

Just a moment…

When he woke from his unexpected doze disorientated, wondering what that nice feeling was and why he was waking up at all, there was a strange sound, that slowly resolved itself into- humming. Virgil was _humming_ , and also stroking his hair, and it felt really nice and gentle and it reminded him of his father and- 

“Oh, kid, it’s okay,” Virgil soothed, brushing his thumb under Roman’s eyes to wipe away the tears there. “It’s been a bit of a wild day or so for you, hasn’t it?” His voice was just so full of sympathy that Roman couldn’t stop himself from letting out a soft sob, opening his eyes to look at Virgil miserably, silently begging for something, anything, to make him feel better. 

Thankfully Virgil seemed to understand, and he was swept up into strong arms and carried to the bedroom to the sound of Virgil’s constant stream of reassurances. 

The bed was just as warm as ever when they got in, and Roman shamelessly stuck to Virgil’s side as the man got comfortable, snuffing the candles out and hugging Roman tightly while he cried. 

“You let that out, kid. There’s no hurt in tears, not with what I’m willing to bet you’ve been through. Bet you’re missing your family huh?” He waited and Roman nodded with a morose sniff, burying his face in Virgil’s shirt and probably soaking it through, but the woodsman didn’t complain and only held him tighter. “Yeah, I get that. I wasn’t always _the_ person living in this house either. I was once _a_ , too. But that was long ago now.

"It’s not so bad, once you get used to it. It’s safe, and it’s peaceful, but it can be sad too. You’ll be sad for a while actually, kid, I’m sorry. But one day that’ll pass too and you’ll breathe easier again. I’ll keep you safe and warm while until you’re through with that bit, if you want to stay with me?

If you say no that’s okay too, remember. You might have to just stay until the snow melts on the passes though- it’s a bit too late to make the trip to the towns. I don’t know how you made it up here at all, but maybe one day you can tell me that story. If you stay.” Virgil groaned under his breath, probably worrying about his rambling incoherence, but Roman found himself hanging onto every word, clinging to them like little delicate spiderweb lifelines. 

What else could he do? He had no family left, as far as he knew. He couldn’t run away because there was nowhere to go to that would be any safer than here. It would be just as risky going to a random village, except that at least here he had fairly good evidence that Virgil wasn’t going to hurt him or give him up for money. What else could a boy, a very recognisable Prince like Roman, do but stay safe where he was? 

“Roman?” Virgil nudged him, feeling around Roman’s shoulders until he found his head and cupped the back of it with his warm, work-rough hand. Roman, still hiccuping with the tail end of tears, flung his arms around the man in the dark, squeezing him tight. “Woah, hey there. Is that a yes?”

“Yes,” Roman whispered. “I’d like to stay." 


	2. The Problem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Winter can't last forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Totally unedited because damn it took so long to write I can't bear to look at it anymore... I'm pretty sure this is all entirely in Virgil's POV and I should change that but it's time to yeet this away and let you all just read it as it is because this is how it wanted to written! 
> 
> Warnings: Eating venison, smattering of angst

The days blurred in an entirely pleasant way. It had been unbelievably long since Virgil had shared the house with anyone, and Roman was a fantastic change of pace. He was excited and interested in just about everything, even if he was still very quiet. It suited them both, Virgil thought, to be close to someone who also craved closeness, but who didn't need you to say a damn word if you didn't feel like it. 

Virgil had never once considered having kids of his own, partly because he didn't think he could and partly because he didn't think he'd ever get the chance to. When he'd lost- when he'd found himself suddenly alone the idea of anything beyond the boundaries of his land had disappeared, along with the thought of trying to break out of his isolation. Like he'd said to the boy, there was a comfort in it that he'd long enjoyed; safe and peaceful. But now with Roman running around with the dog, and sticking close to his side to seek cuddles whenever he desired, Virgil was forced to confront the fact that maybe he'd just got used to loneliness, and had deliberately forgotten anything else. 

He smiled to himself, stretched out on the couch with Roman sprawled over him, and stroked the boy's silky head. Roman snuffled and turned his head so the other cheek was pressed against Virgil's chest, utterly relaxed. It made Virgil's heart melt, and he couldn't stop the silly grin on his face from taking over. He wouldn't have tried anyway. 

They'd spent the morning out gathering firewood, from one of the forest piles he had- not the one he'd found Roman by because he wasn't sure the boy was ready for that yet- bringing the logs back on the pull-sled and setting them in the barn to dry out for future use. Roman had been struggling to carry more than a couple at once, but Virgil had been unbelievably proud of the way he'd persevered and kept going, taking two trips to Virgil's one each time and looking at him for quick approval whenever he carefully placed his load onto the new pile. 

That was another thing; the boy was an absolute sucker for praise. All he required to keep him in the highest of spirits was a ruffle of his hair and a smile, or a gruff 'doing good, kid'. Virgil, not so different himself, was perfectly happy to provide, spoiling the boy with affection as much as he could, feeding him up and spending long hours with a needle and thread tailoring some of his old clothes to fit the young prince so he could join in in comfort. Boots had been a bit more of a problem, but Virgil privately thought it was utterly adorable the way Roman stomped around in the too-big pair that was the smallest he'd had, inside stuffed with socks to keep them on. 

He was pretty gone on this kid. It would be a mighty shame when spring came and the snow melted, and Roman would have to make the choice of what to do next. 

Virgil hoped he'd stay, but he wouldn't fault him if he wanted to go, either. He'd just be very sad. 

From his cosy position the boy yawned, lifting a hand to rub at an itch on his cheek before subsiding back into stillness. Virgil would have to think about dinner soon, and getting dog out for a walk, but for now he was more than content to stay right where he was, convinced that this must be a slice of paradise he'd somehow captured, fragile but beautiful, to keep as his own for as long as it could reasonably last. 

* * *

Roman took the dog for a walk (or, really it was the other way round because the dog knew her way around and Roman just had to chase after her, his laughter ringing through the still air) while Virgil tidied up a bit. The domesticity of it all appealed to him greatly, and he hummed to himself as he worked. He wondered if Roman thought he was being a good parent, or if he wasn't much compared to the life he'd had before as a member of the royal family... Okay he was going to try and not wonder about that again because it made his chest ache nastily. 

"There was a deer!" Roman gasped as he burst in the door, sitting on the mat to pull his snowy boots off, eyes round and glittering with awe and cheeks flushed from the cold. Virgil tutted as he left the door open and the dog tried to get in, throwing the old towel at the boy. 

"Don't forget to rub her down before you let her in. And close the damn door, kid, we're not all covered in fur like pooch there!" He growled at him, and from the way Roman grinned without a hint of shame, racing back outside to do as he was asked, he figured actually maybe he was doing okay. 

"Tell me about the deer," Virgil urged, ladling the stew out into Roman's waiting bowl and following with his own to sit at the table. "You ever see one before?" 

Roman bounced in his seat, blowing on each hot mouthful before bolting the food down, starving the way Virgil remembered being at his age. It made the woodsman grin, eating considerably slower while Roman tried to wolf his meal down and tell the story at the same time. "We didn't have deer at the palace except for as dinner sometimes, but it was so pretty!" Blow to cool; spoonful in, chewed and swallowed. "I didn't notice at first because it was super still-" Blow, swallow, wince because it was too quick, swallow slower. "But it just stood there looking at me. Dog was really good too, just sat down and waited, and it last for-" Another small mouthful, gesture with the empty spoon to illustrate the point. "For _ages._ And then it just walked away. I think it was a she, because she didn't have horns and you said-"

"Antlers, for deer," Virgil corrected him mildly. 

"Right, antlers. But she didn't have any so, but she was so _pretty_!" He dropped his cheek into his hand with a sigh, elbow propped on the table so he could still eat, gaze distant as he remembered it all over again. Virgil grinned around his spoon and kept eating. 

After dinner Roman did the dishes, just about tall enough to reach over into the sink and scrub everything. Initially Virgil had expected him to reject the idea of having to work at all, like every prince he'd ever heard or read about, but Roman had been nothing but enthusiastic and willing to help out. It probably helped that he could sneak the bowls down to the dog to lick clean before he washed them up properly, while Virgil pretended not to notice. Or maybe he was just a thoroughly good kid. That was a theory that got more and more credible the more time the woodsman spent with the prince. 

"Hey, Roman, c'mere kid," Virgil called from the bedroom when he heard the boy finish putting everything away. The prince trotted in with an inquisitive look, and Virgil patted the bed next to where he sat. 

Roman hopped up and curled his knees under himself, leaning his weight into Virgil's side unquestioningly, and the woodsman put his arm around his narrow shoulders, showing him what he was holding in his other hand. "This was mine, when I was young. It was given to me by someone very special who said it would bring good luck, and protection, for as long as I wore it." Someone who is lost to me now, he didn't say, but Roman could clearly read it on his face because he looked back at the woodsman seriously. Virgil held the pendant out by the leather cord, letting the wood and amber dangle. "I'd like to give it to you now, if you want it. I haven't worn it in a while, but it's- it's still special. To me." 

Virgil swallowed, wishing he could feel the confidence of his age but remembering only the terror and betrayal of the youth he'd been when he'd taken it off for the last time. He wasn't going to tell Roman that part though, how the charm hadn't worked when he'd needed it to most, because he'd learned in the decade or so since that the power it actually held was in believing. Believing it could help. Believing it was special. Believing that the one who gave it to you was gifting you something truly special just because it was _them_ giving it. 

He hoped it would hold true for Roman. And maybe he hoped that it would be something for the boy to take with him when- _if_ he left in the Spring. To remember Virgil and their time together by. 

Roman was transfixed by it, brushing his fingers over the charm before cupping his hand so Virgil could drop it in. He inspected it closely while Virgil held his breath, and then sat up to pull it over his head and settle the pendant onto his chest. Virgil's breath whooshed out as he was hit with a fierce hug, and he laughed weakly, allowing himself one sniff as he hugged the boy back as tightly as he could. "Thank you, Virgil," Roman whispered, voice muffled by the clothes he'd buried his face in. "Thank you so much." 

They both clung to each other as they got ready for bed, Virgil keeping a hand on the boy as much as he could, laying it on his head or shoulder, thumbing some dirt from his cheek, helping him when he got tangled in his nightshirt. And Roman did the same, pressing against him side to side as they brushed their teeth, kicking his feet up over his lap while he lay on the bed and admired the pendant again, jumping onto his back as Virgil walked past to go stoke the fire for the night and hanging there as the woodsman just continued on with his task without pausing, just reaching one arm back to support him. 

He was nearly asleep on Virgil's shoulder when they got back to the bed, and Virgil carefully twisted to slide him off onto the mattress, rolling him into place and snuffing the last candle. 

In the darkness he felt Roman curl into him as usual, and felt his sigh shift the blankets. "I want to stay here forever," the prince said softly, which- _oh_. 

"Okay," Virgil croaked, trying not to show how overwhelmed he was by emotion at that declaration. "That's- that's great. That's _really_ great," he barked out a laugh, cheeks a little damp, and turned to press a soft kiss to the top of Roman's head. "Sweet dreams, Roman." 

"Sweet dreams, Virgil." 

* * *

Winter passed quickly. They celebrated the midwinter with a feast and some games that Roman remembered, and even the dog got a treat or three. Roman's family apparently had a custom of gift giving and he'd managed somehow to carve a decent sketch of the deer he'd spotted into a strip of tough bark that Virgil immediately and very proudly placed on the mantel to be admired. He had to apologise for not having got anything in return, but Roman was all smiles when he waved it off and argued that Virgil had already given him so much. 

They'd gorged on some eggnog Virgil had rustled up, curling up under a blanket by the fire while Virgil read a story from the small amount of books he'd had packed away. When Roman's head finally drooped as far as it would go, Virgil picked him up and carried him to bed, belly and heart equally full. 

But after Midwinter came the lengthening of the days. Normally such a relief, but with spring came travellers, and questions. At least he didn't have to fear Roman choosing to leave anymore, but instead they had to hope that the search for the missing prince had been abandoned after so long without success. Otherwise there was going to have to be a serious and probably unpleasant discussion about safety and secrecy, and Virgil would have to hold off on the surprise trading trip to the village he'd planned for after the first snowmelt. 

They'd cross that bridge when they came to it. 

For now Virgil was enjoying the unexpected benefits of living with a kid, which included snowball fights; hot cocoa just because; extremely competitive games of cards; teaching someone about the world around them on long walks with the dog; the sound of laughter or breathing or movement in the house that didn't belong to an animal but another human; and hugs. So many hugs. He'd never thought he was a particularly affectionate man but hell did Roman prove him wrong... 

Virgil hadn't felt this carefree in years, and even Roman had commented that he didn't look so old these days. Virgil had had to chide the boy and remind him that he wasn't actually even middle-aged yet, let alone old, and they'd had a little chase around the house when the cheeky kid had innocently exclaimed surprise at that fact, culminating in a tickle fight that Virgil easily won. 

Yes, the peaceful isolation of Winter was idyllic to say the least. It made the jarring shattering of that peace all the more terrifying. 

It came in the form of a voice. Two voices, actually, ringing out through the trees when Virgil was out checking his woodpiles and Roman was back at the house with their lunch. One was high and loud, and the other softer and lower and sounding a lot more cautious, cutting into the louder voice regularly. 

Virgil ran. He darted through the trees back to the house and slipped inside. Roman looked up from peeling the carrots and wrinkled his nose. "How come _I_ have to take my shoes off whenever I come inside and you do- hey!" Virgil grabbed the peeler from him and bent down, hands on his shoulders, hoping Roman would get the urgency. 

"I need you to hide. Someone's coming. Go!" He urged, and thankfully- he had the best kid, honestly- Roman immediately did as he was asked, slipping back under the bed where he'd hidden once before. Virgil took over the cooking, making sure to hide as many signs of a second inhabitant as possible. It was a lot harder than it had been when Roman had first shown up; the boy was fully entrenched in life in the house now. His things were everywhere, little signs that usually made Virgil smile but now just made his heart race faster. 

There was only so much he could do before he heard the same loud voice shout upon spotting the house, and then feet pounded towards the door and he braced himself. 

A fist rapped sharply on the wood and Virgil flinched. Deep breath in, hold, out, he reminded himself, before going to pull the door open a crack and peer out at... 

_Roman_? 

No, that wasn't possible. Roman was under the bed. _So_ _who_...?

"Hello! Is he here? Can I come in?!" The Roman-impostor asked brightly, trying to see into the house. Virgil's mouth moved silently, fish-like, until the second person caught up, out of breath and wheezing when he reached the door behind the strange boy. 

"I'm so sorry," he apologised, leaning on the door frame and tugging the boy back against him. "He's not supposed to just run off and bother people, but I've never been able to stop him." 

What. "What- what is this? Who are you?" Virgil asked, more bewildered than belligerent. He'd expected the same guards, maybe armed, returning to search the house again. Not this child and his minder looking sheepish and friendly and tired. 

The minder held out his hand, pushing his glasses back up his nose. "My name is Logan, I'm the tutor. This is Remus, he's... we're looking for his twin brother. Remus says he knows he came this way?" Virgil was stunned, but before he could react he heard a creak from inside and a small voice. 

"Mister Logan? Is that you?" 

"Roman!" Remus replied instead, squeezing through the gap Virgil had left between the door and himself, dashing inside and gasping when he saw Roman. They collided in a tight hug, and Roman promptly burst into tears. 

_What was going on_. 

Behind him Logan cleared his throat, offering a sympathetic smile when Virgil turned back to him with wide eyes. "Maybe we can come inside and clear this all up?" 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise I had to split this chapter in two? Yay for writing too much!


	3. The Promise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Until the spring comes and beyond.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part two of what was supposed to be the final and second chapter.
> 
> Warnings: Discussion of violent death (not graphic), angst.

Remus was there! Remus was back! His brother, his twin, his chief ally in all things- was here hugging him in his new home, not _deadinacarriageinthewoodswithfatherandmotherand_ \- 

Roman bawled shamelessly into his brother's shoulder until Logan came to guide them to the couch, sitting on his other side while the twins clung together and rubbing his back. 

The way Virgil often did... 

Roman's head shot up and he turned to search for his friend-slash-new-parent, finding the man over by the stove boiling the kettle with a frown. It made Roman feel a bit squirmy and horrible in his stomach, but Remus was here! He couldn't let go even if he tried. 

Logan was checking him over, he could tell by the quick analytical flit of his eyes, but smiled when they made eye contact. "You're looking well, P- Roman. Tell me," he leaned close enough to whisper so Virgil wouldn't hear. "Are you safe here?" 

Virgil cleared his throat from closer than the tutor had thought he was and Logan sat up, accepting the mug of tea and suspicious look with a polite smile. "I uh, I do hot apple for Roman so I um, got you the same," the woodsman said to Remus. Roman jumped to try and support his unsettled caretaker. 

"It's really good, Re, you've gotta try it. There's cinnamon in it too!" Virgil returned Roman's hopeful smile gratefully, and he felt Logan relax as well. 

They sipped in silence for a moment while Virgil pulled the rickety armchair over and perched in it to start talking. Roman's head was buzzing a bit, but he didn't want to lean into Logan any more than he already had, because Virgil's eyes were all sad like the dog's got when she was denied pets and he didn't like it much. 

The woodsman sighed, staring down at his mug instead. "I s'pose you'll be takin' him home?" He said after a moment. Logan glanced at the two boys and nodded slowly. 

"In as much as there is a home to take them to. There was an incident with their parents, ah-" He looked down, raising an eyebrow at Roman who had a hand on his arm. 

"Virgil knows already, Mister Logan. About who we are." Logan cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses again, nodding at the prince. 

"Right. Well, the palace isn't safe... Virgil. There's been a bit of a conspiracy and the twins can't go back until the place is sorted out. Prince Remus and I managed to escape the carriage attack and run to the nearest village, but we lost Prince Roman in the fray. It's taken this long to attempt trying to find him. Luckily Prince Remus was quite sure where to go, he's the reason we found you at all."

Virgil looked up from his drink at that. "How's that work?" 

"We're not sure yet. But the point is it did. And I'm just glad to see Prince Roman has been safe this whole time. You have my deepest gratitude." Logan inclined his head and Virgil nodded slowly to accept it. "For now, perhaps we can stay the night? It's a bit late to go back down to the village, but- if you'd prefer we leave then we can do." 

"Can they stay? Please?" Roman asked, looking hopefully at the woodsman. Virgil hesitated but gave them all a nod and got up. 

"S'pose you'll all be wantin' to eat too," he mumbled, heading for the stove to pick up dinner where Roman had left off. 

* * *

The noise was beyond what Virgil was used to with Roman. Their peace was gone, replaced with the wild energy of Remus and Logan's quiet and considered interjections correcting a pronunciation or word or telling the prince to sit and eat and stop waving his utensils around. Even Roman was more talkative than he ever had been with Virgil, which... didn't _not_ sting? 

"-Virgil?" He looked up from his dinner to see Logan and the twins looking at him. "What's _your_ favourite season?" Logan finished with a smile. Virgil just looked back at him, wondering how he could be comfortable in that stiff suit and the shoes he was wearing that were clearly not weather-appropriate. He remembered that he'd been asked a question and sat back, running a hand through his hair and wondering if he should maybe shave and clean up a bit to fit in with these three. Roman had never complained before but Logan was incredibly well put-together, and an adult was more likely to judge than a child. Maybe it would help his case to keep Roman safe here with him in the morning. Short of kidnapping the boy Virgil wasn't sure what else to do. 

He wasn't sure of much since Remus had knocked on the door earlier and he'd opened it to find his world irrevocably changed. "Oh, uh, Winter." Both boys wrinkled their noses but Logan offered him a kind smile, much nicer than the polite one before. 

"I have to agree. The snow is very beautiful, and it can be so cosy to hole up inside with your family and-" The tutor stopped, looking at the suddenly quiet boys. 

Well, Virgil thought. At least he's not perfect either. "C'mon, Roman you're on clear up. Show your brother how it's done, 'kay?" The woodsman said gruffly, taking over now there was finally an opening for it. Logan looked ready to protest the impropriety but Roman had already slipped out of his chair, grabbing the bowls and directing a curious Remus in their task. 

"You don't call him prince," the tutor commented, turning back to Virgil across the table. He steepled his fingers in front of him, looking over them at the woodsman. "You treat him like any other boy. But he seems to be very fond of you for it." 

Virgil shrugged. "He's no prince here. And he wants to help out. 'S'a good kid, that one. He's been good to have around, y'know, while it lasted. C'mon, help me get some blankets and sleepin' stuff sorted for you. Boys can have the bed tonight." 

"Oh I don't need- that is, I'm happy to sleep in this," Logan protested but Virgil just scoffed and jerked his head in the direction of the bedroom. "Really, it would be absolutely fine."

"Gets cold in here overnight, even with the fire. Those aren't good clothes for sleepin' nor for keepin' warm, Mister Logan. Do me a favour and accept my offer so's I don't have to deal with you frozen to death in the morning?" 

Logan stopped arguing and took the blankets and pyjamas with good grace, laying them out on the couch. "Where will you sleep, Virgil?" Good question. 

He twisted his mouth in thought. "Pro'ly just the armchair. Or by the hearth if it's warmer. It'll be fine for a night. Then I'll-" Virgil couldn't stop his face from falling, looking down at his feet. "Then I'll have my whole bed back to myself, I s'pose." 

He didn't notice Logan's thoughtful frown, called at that moment over to the sink to help Roman reach the clean drying cloths. 

* * *

"But why can't you stay in here too? There's loads of room!" Roman stamped his foot, sulkier than Virgil had ever seen him before. 

The woodsman sighed and tried to explain again. "You and your brother need to get some proper sleep kid. You'll be comfier just the two of you. And don't you think it would be a bit much to ask him to sleep in the bed of a man he doesn't know one bit? I'll be fine in the chair." 

"But I can't sleep without you there!" Roman tried. Virgil scooped him up, ignoring the sounds of the other two using the sink to wash up and talking quietly in the next room. "It's not fair. It's not _fair_ , I want everything to be the same again!" 

Virgil sighed and pressed his lips to Roman's temple. "Don't pout, kid, it'll give you wrinkles. I suppose you want the world on a plate, too, hm? Look, Mister Logan and your brother came a long way to find you, and it's amazing that they did. You're still just _a_ prince, yeah? But remember Remus has probably missed you a lot too. You gotta stick together, and I want to give you both time alone because I'm damn sure there won't be much time for that while you're on the run with Logan until things get sorted." 

Roman turned and looked up at him, eyes huge and- uh oh- watery. "I still want to stay," he told Virgil earnestly, voice thin with impending tears. They spilled over and the woodsman gently wiped them away as best he could. 

"I want that too, Roman. More than anything. But your family is important out there and Logan's right. You're not safe until that whole mess gets sorted. The people who attacked your family? They're still out there. And I know you'd miss your brother if you didn't go with him. Don't try and deny it." 

"Virgil?" Logan's voice in the doorway made him look up. Roman looked down and rubbed his face, upset and frustrated. He dodged Virgil's goodnight kiss and climbed into bed angrily, turning away and rolling under the blankets to hide himself, staying put even when Remus jumped in beside him. 

It fair broke Virgil's heart, but he knew he would take all of Roman's fury and hurt a hundred times over if it meant being honest with him and keeping him safe and happy. Even if he couldn't stop thinking about how last night had been their last real night together and he hadn't even known it, hadn't appreciated the comfort of snuggling with his kid, of giving him a soft 'sweet dreams' and feeling him drift off to sleep. Of waking to Roman's morning grumble and sleepy softness, or the way he'd giggle if the dog jumped up to lick his face and try and encourage them to feed her. Of- 

There were so many things he'd never expected to count as lasts. 

Well fine, that was what parents had to do right? Even if he really... wasn't a parent at all. He left the room quickly without looking at Logan, sorting out the candles and crouching by the fireplace to poke moodily at the burning logs, stoking it up high so it would last. 

Logan found him there, drawing the bedroom door shut and padding over to kneel by him with such a soft look of concern that Virgil felt himself instinctively crumple in response. He turned away, hoping to hide his misery from the tutor, but Logan had already seen. He gently took the poker from Virgil's hand and put it aside, resting a hand on the woodsman's shoulder until Virgil crumpled over in a hunch and tried not to move as he mourned his impending loss. 

It hurt. 

"Let's go sit," Logan murmured gently, guiding him up and onto the couch where he rubbed Virgil's back exactly the same way he'd rubbed Roman's in the same spot a few hours earlier. Virgil just sighed, a wet sound but past sobbing. Now was the time to be strong. He could fall apart when Roman was- he could fall apart in the morning. 

"What happened to them?" He asked, because this would be his only chance to find out. "Roman was half dead when I found him out there. I don't know why, I couldn't bear to ask." 

"We were travelling to the winter cottage for the season, just a quiet trip out to cover midwinter and maybe a little more. Someone... like I said. It was bigger than just bandits. Something coordinated. The palace was attacked at the same time by a group we- well I know nothing about. They overturned the carriage and we lost the King to the accident, and the Queen was dead shortly after. Poison blades, I think, but I didn't have time to check. Our men tried to fight but there were two guards against four or five riders in black, so all they could really do was distract while I ran with the princes. One of them got between us and Roman vanished, so I had to keep going with just Remus. 

"Remus is, he's very special. Roman too, but differently. So Remus told me where to go to find a place to stay and be safe, and we wound up at the village. Someone agreed to hide us, and we were there until Remus said we had to move on. We ended up back not far from here, just a few days ago. And then he said we had to climb through the forest because that's where Roman was. My guess is Roman just took off and kept running and- why do you do that?" 

The abrupt subject change threw Virgil off. "Do what?" Logan frowned at him in the firelight. 

"You dumb yourself down. You talk to me like... like you're trying to be less than what you are. But then you forget, or you talk to Roman, and you're not like that at all. Is it a coping mechanism? Is it-"

Virgil put a hand over the tutor's mouth. "I don't, I don't know what you're talking about. No look, it's not relevant right now, okay? I want to know your plans with the boys. Where are you gonna take them? Do you need supplies? I can give you a lot but, it's not going to be an easy trip..." 

Logan blinked at him, and Virgil quickly removed his hand with an apology. "Um well, I was thinking we could talk about that in the morning? It's been a long day and-" 

"You don't know, do you." Logan wilted. He looked smaller in the big jumper Virgil had given him to wear, no collar to hide his slender neck and wow that was not something Virgil was supposed to be thinking about right now. 

"I don't, no," Logan replied slowly. "I was going to ask your advice in the morning. It really has been a long day. Would that be okay?" 

Virgil nodded quickly, hands firmly in his lap. "Yeah, 'course. Sorry to make you talk about all that stuff." 

Logan smiled, but it was tired and strained and he gave up on it after less than a second, heaving a sigh. "Yeah. I understand why you'd want to know though. But it was... it was really horrible. I've never been so scared in my entire life. I only became their tutor a few weeks before it happened, I'd only ever studied before then. I wish it had never happened."

"I don't." 

"Excuse me?!" Logan looked at him with a horrified expression, and Virgil quickly backtracked. 

"No I mean- only if it hadn't'a happened then I never would've met Roman. That's all!" Logan eyed him for a moment longer and Virgil fought the very strong urge to hold his hands up to proclaim his innocence. 

But at last Logan sighed, relaxing again. "You really care about him. You're going miss him something fierce, aren't you." 

Virgil said nothing, and when the silence stretched on a mite too long he stood up and moved to the armchair. "Goodnight, Mister Logan." 

"Goodnight, Virgil," came the reply. The house fell quiet. 

* * *

The morning bloomed bright and full of potential. Full of potential for heartbreak, Virgil thought to himself as he squinted against the sunlight coming in the windows and hitting him directly in the eye. Yay... 

He heaved himself up, feeding the dog and letting her out to run around and do her morning business while he set the kettle to boil. When he returned to stoke the fire he glanced over the tutor, curled up tightly in the blankets and looking very cute in his sleep. Oh good, more of those thoughts, huh? What a _fantastic_ day it was going to be. 

Didn't stop him staring a bit though. Logan wasn't wearing his glasses and his neatly combed hair had started to fall over his forehead. The blankets were up to his nose but the fan of his dark eyelashes on his cheek was oddly hypnotic. Virgil tried to feel guilty about drinking in the sight, but it was a terrible day so why shouldn't he take some good from it where he could? 

The kettle whistled as it boiled and movement stirred in both rooms of the house. He could hear Roman waking his brother up and Remus whining back, and Logan was yawning from his own bed beside him. One by one they made it to the table where Virgil deposited their steaming mugs of tea and bowls of porridge. Because if they were going to go traipsing around in a forest all day he'd damn well make sure they didn't do it on empty bellies. 

The morning passed way too fast for Virgil's liking. Before he knew it the boys were out with the dog- and gosh how it had ached to see the fragility in Roman's smile when he'd started talking about teaching Remus the way round and had realised that that wouldn't be happening- and he and Logan were alone in the house. 

"So, I think you'd be best taking a different path back down than the one you took up because the-"

"Virgil."

"The paths are gonna be wrecked this time of year. I'll pack you a big bag with some stuff in it, you can't wear those damn shoes-

"Virgil!"

"And I'll draw you up a map or somethin', though heaven knows Roman is good with direction even though everything's still white everywhere-"

"Virgil _please_ -"

"I've half a mind to lend you the dog, least until you can get to a village, then she'll come right b-"

Logan had lunged across the table and clamped a hand over the woodsman's mouth. Virgil blinked at him. Then he blinked again, wondering why he was apparently hallucinating a very amused smile on Logan's face. 

"I was thinking last night. The boys need to be safe somewhere until they can go home. And well, you've kept Roman very safe indeed. And I couldn't bear to split up family, that's just not right-"

"But you're taking them both. So they won't be split," Virgil interjected weakly, muffled behind the hand. Logan withdrew and gave him a very odd look. 

"I meant you and Roman, actually." 

Silence followed, and Logan seemed to gather his confidence to say something, squaring his shoulders and lifting his chin. "I would like to propose we stay. With you. Here. Please?" 

Well, what? 

No really, _what_?!

"Did you just ask to stay?" Virgil checked, because he had to have been imagining _that_. 

Logan gave him a shy, nervous smile and pushed his misbehaving hair back away from his face self-consciously. "I did. I mean, we'd have to discuss logistics- this isn't the largest house and the sleeping arrangements would need to change, but we could certainly help out and it's more than safe here. The boys could stay together and Roman could stay with you... What do you think?" 

"What do I think?" Virgil laughed, actually laughed. The door opened and the twins tumbled in, and when Roman scolded his brother for not taking his boots off Virgil laughed again, jumping up to grab his boy up into his arms and spin him around, hopefully answering Logan's question thoroughly. 

"What's going on?" Remus asked, and Roman leaned back to look at Virgil's face, reading the answer there without words. They didn't need words. 

"I think we're going to have to get used to some new daily chores," Logan replied with a grin. 

Roman blinked at Virgil with quiet hope. "Really? I can stay?" He asked in a whisper, reaching up to touch the pendant around his neck. 

"Really really," Virgil promised. "Right here with me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it folks, that's the whole thing I had planned from start to finish after a dream I had last week! I hope you've enjoyed, let me know what you think and feel free to come find me on tumblr at the same name to yell at me for not editing my stuff woooooops


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